Warmth
by Marabelline
Summary: Shinichi/Satomi. Her hands are warm, he's realized. That's why he's always looking for excuses to hold on.


**Prompt:** _Shinichi finding excuses to hold Satomi's hand._

 **Note:** To clarify, this is based upon the _anime_ adaptation called Parasyte -the Maxim- because I only have the anime as my current source—I do, however, intend to read the original manga at some point.

 **Warning:** Somewhat suggestive material in stage iii AKA hints of doing-the-do.

* * *

 **i. egg**

Shinichi likes to think to himself that their story starts out in the warm glow of the diner where they're just talking and laughing together as if they don't have a care in the world ( _but he already has too much to care about and she's someone to care about_ ), but he knows that their roots stretch farther than that. He knows that the first words of their story begin somewhere in between scraped knees and half-melted ice cream and piles of autumn leaves—but he isn't quite sure what words make it begin.

It doesn't really matter anyway, he supposes. Maybe it isn't the right story to tell anyway. No, their _real_ tale where they're not "just friends" like they've claimed starts on the way home from that pancake diner. Satomi is all large grins and warm brown eyes in the golden afternoon—maybe winter's arriving in less than a month but she's still the warmth that burns through to him.

He finds himself fumbling for her hand on the way back, trying to tangle his fingers in hers. When Shinichi finally manages to clasp hold of her hand he knows it's a far cry from the perfect fit couples seem to have on TV. But it seems like it's enough for someone to notice that little bubble of laughter and quiet conversation across the street and let out a shout of, "When's the wedding?"

He stops laughing for a moment, feeling his face flush with red. Satomi stares at him dubiously for a moment, pink face peeking above the equally pink edge of her scarf.

 _Whatever you do_ , he thinks to himself, _don't look at those big brown eyes the prettiest eyes you've ever seen—_

"Why are you holding my hand like that?" She stretches out the "y" in "why".

"It's just for an experiment, I swear." He finds himself pushing his glasses further up his nose, trying to hide his face with his free hand.

"What sort of _experiment_ would that be?" Damn and bless all those questions she never stops asking.

"Secret." His voice is surprisingly terse and clipped when he speaks. She just shakes her head a little and sighs ( _"Another one of those secrets you're keeping from me"_ ) but he feels her grip tighten around his as they continue to walk.

It isn't much, but it's enough to make his smile grow wider.

 **ii. larva (caterpillar)**

He doesn't hold her hand when he says goodbye, just turns around and smiles. It's not a real smile, but the kind that feels like it's going to slide off his face and shatter into thousands of pieces.

He _knows_ she's wondering when he'll be back and he simply reassures her that he'll return in time. _It isn't a lie, I just don't know. How can I lie about something I don't know?_

He used to have the warmth before, the luxury of being able to cry. But it seems like now the tears won't come ever since the candle's been snuffed out—leaving only cold, untouchable walls behind.

Shinichi wouldn't say he dislikes or minds it, though. How can he miss something he can't remember having to begin with? But even when he says he'll be back and turns away from her, he still can't shake the fact that he almost wants to cling to her for what might be the last time.

 **iii. pupa (chrysalis)**

The two of them are burrowed beneath the bedsheets, he's just about to close his eyes in sleep. They don't have much time to spend together so it seems as though every second counts. But slowly, because of Satomi he's able to start seeing the colors and light again. Not very much, as _happy_ and _angry_ and _sad_ and everything else blend into such a kaleidoscope he can't see them all. But he can see them and that's what matters.

He finds himself reaching out to her once again like he has before.

"You're amazing," she whispers to him in the dim light. She is all softened angles and sleepy features now, but when Shinichi reaches for her hand she reaches for him too. Maybe she isn't asking but he knows that her question is hovering overhead to be answered.

"My hands are cold," he lies. She lets out a quiet giggle and moves closer to him.

"Oh come on, your hands aren't _that_ cold," she teases him. He doesn't turn away because she won't be able to see him faintly blushing when it's already dark.

Shinichi doesn't let go. He won't let go because he isn't quite sure whether this is the last time he'll be able to hold on.

 **iv. butterfly**

They've finally reached the end of their story—well not the end of the _whole_ story. They've reached the end of their encounter with the parasites, and for now are finally able to live beyond the words that have been holding them captive.

They sit on the train together, Satomi clinging close to him. His hand finds hers and he holds on, not wanting to let go again.

(It was in all the little ways that she taught him how to stand tall).

"I'm still kind of nervous, that's why I'm holding your hand,

"Hmmph." She lets out a quiet snicker and tightens her grip ever so slightly.

"Fine, but that's only part of the reason." He plants a kiss on her forehead.

They don't speak even when the train screeches to a halt in front of their stop. It's not as if they need the words anyways. Her hand in his is enough.

That's the way their old metamorphosis ends and the new one begins.

 **A/N:** Hi, this is my first Parasyte -the Maxim- fanfiction, I hope you enjoyed it. In truth, I feel as though Shinichi/Satomi is my preferred couple to Shinichi/Kana because while in both anime and manga their relationship was slightly rushed they still had some basis together and did show that they cared for each other—far from a slow burn, but a cute pairing to me I guess.

I wrote this at two in the morning but am getting around to posting it only now. For some reason, writing when I'm sleep-deprived and living off of peppermint patties actually helps me improve. Please give me your thoughts on this piece, as I'd really appreciate the feedback.

P.S. To me at least, Glasses Shinichi is best Shinichi.


End file.
